Josh
by Andrea Churchill
Summary: A mix of KP and Job from the Bible. For English class...Josh Mankey has the same fate as Job...oh my..


Josh

Duff Killigan arrived at Sheila Mankey's house one day on a normal Thursday afternoon. It wasn't rare for Duff to give Sheila a visit, but it was always suspicious due to Duff's bad reputation. Everyone knew him as violent, crude, and just plain evil. Something was _always _up his sleeve. And Sheila, considering she was his arch enemy, knew that with every visit came a caution.

'_Ding dong' _went the bell. Sheila opened the door and looked at the man who has physically hurt her in so many ways.

"Oh….hi, Duff." She said. "What do you need…?"

He growled, as he usually does whenever he was asked a question. "Eh need teh speak wit Mankey. Yer husband."

Sheila seemed interested, now. Whenever her husband Josh was involved, she had every right to be concerned. She couldn't help but wonder why on _Earth _Duff would need Josh this time. She had to ask, even if she knew he wouldn't tell her.

"Oh? Why, what for?"

Duff growled, again. "None o' yer business. Er ye goin' te lemme in er nae?" he asked, rudely.

Sheila sighed. She opened the door for him, and he strode in. He looked around, left and right, around the living room. He seemed to be looking for Josh's presence, but it looked more as if he was inspecting the place, or as if he was looking for something more miniscule. Perhaps he thought Josh was hiding under a table, or something.

"He isn't here, you know. He's out getting breakfast." Sheila commented, closing the door.

"Och, gettin' breakfest is he?" Duff turned to her.

"….Yes?"

"How sweet. Breakfest in te middle o' te afternoon…whut, wake up late ye two?"

Sheila reacted in a meek manner. She mumbles, and looked away. "Maybe."

She was obviously embarrassed, and Duff could tell. "Och…eh don' want te hear eh. But Sheila…tis is sae daft."

Daft…it meant silly. Duff, being Scottish, used a lot of words like that. Terms like bampot, bonnie good, and brer weren't uncommon.

"Daft? What is?" Sheila asked.

"Tis _love _ye claim te 'ave wit Mankey…tis ain' real."

Sheila was appalled. Was Duff saying that all their moments of love and happiness were lies? Illusions? What could he mean? Sheila had seen the soft and nurturing side of Josh. When she needed someone he was the only one who helped her. She saw in him his caring and gentle soul…she didn't trust him at first and thought he would hurt her like the others and she saw how he would keep coming back to help. He wakes each morning and is there for her. He will listen and help and serve her when it came down to anything.

"What do you mean…?" she asked the Scotsman. He shook his head at her, like he thought she was pathetic.

"Sheila do ye really think te painter luvs ye?" he asked.

Sheila knew the answer to that question right away, without doubt. "With all his heart."

Duff raised an eyebrow. "That is now while times are good ye mean…"

"And in the bad times too."

"Nay lass, he'll leave ye when times will get tough."

"Never will."

"Then prove it."

Sheila was stunned. Was Duff proposing that she proved Josh's love for her, if she put him through something unbearable? A suffering? It was terrible…she couldn't even think about causing any harm to Josh. But Duff had this….this _intoxicating _demeanor about him. He could easily persuade you into doing something malicious without knowing it. Just the fact that he was annoying the _hell _out of Sheila made her want to do something bad. Just because he was there, it made the whole room gloomy and wicked. His presence was a spell. His being was an evil enchantment. Sheila became angry with his bets and his tone of voice with her…she could not contain her aggravation. He wished for her to put her husband through a horrendous suffering which he would never pass. But she fell for Duff's trickery, and she agreed to his plan.

"Alright." She sighed, eyeing daggers at her longtime foe. "I'll do it."

The next day, Josh Mankey awoke next to his wife, Sheila, in the afternoon. He awoke feeling well rested, and comfortable. But something felt…different. Something was wrong.

Sheila was lying next to him…awake, watching him cautiously. She wore sad eyes, hoping he would not hate her for the fate she brought upon him. She loved him so much…and she agreed to bring him harm, to prove his love for her….it was ghastly. She couldn't bear to think of how immoral it was. She dreaded seeing him awaken, seconds away from realizing what his new fate detained.

The night earlier, Sheila had gotten up in the middle of the night, and opened the drawer from her bed stand. She took out a needle filled with an anesthetic. For a long time, she just stood there, and could not bring herself to do what she needed to do to bring the worst suffering upon the love of her life. But Duff's words circled in her head, brainwashing her…encouraging the evil inside her to come out.

She had walked to Josh's side of the bed. She injected him with the anesthetic. After waiting a few minutes for the drug to settle in…she finally brought herself to get it over with.

When Josh awoke the next morning, he discovered two things.

One, he could not see.

And two, he could not touch.

Sheila watched him awaken, discovering the horror that he had lost two of his most important senses. She watched him yell, and moan, and call his wife's name, and grope with his bandaged arms and cry without tears. She cringed to see him in such pain, knowing that it was she who had caused it...knowing that it was she who gouged his eyes and cut off his hands, so he could paint no more.

Josh was known as a good looking man. His injuries defied that quality in him.

As Josh yelled and cried in pain for his wife, a terrible vision of horror, Sheila got up and out of bed, and ran from the scene. She could not bear to watch his pain anymore. She left the house…she left Josh alone to suffer.

Later in the day, while Josh began to calm himself, he groped around for the stairs and sat on the living room couch for hours, wondering. He wondered why…..why was his wife gone, nowhere to be heard. Why did he have no eyes, nor hands (for he had figured by this time what had happened to him)? He seemed to think that some person of evil intention did this to harm him, from some bad deed he once did…and, in the process of revenge, captured his wife as well. He wanted to look for his wife, Sheila, but knew his lack of sight and touch were going to hinder that. Before he could think any further, the doorbell rang.

He immediately thought it to be Sheila. But just as he was getting off the couch and groping to find the front door did he realize that his wife didn't have to ring the bell to enter their house. That, and he had no hands to turn the lock and open the door…

The door knocked again, harder.

Josh just stood there, unsure of what to do. He heard voices yelling through the door:

"Joshua Mankey! We have the house surrounded! Open up and surrender!"

Josh's mind was buzzing with confusion. What had he done? He committed absolutely no crime! He was innocent! Completely innocent! He was too busy getting his eyes and hands taken from him!

Josh was crying again, tearless, by the time the police barged down his doors. They saw his state…head and arms bandaged, a crippled, helpless, confused man. They carefully and cautiously approached him. Josh could hear one female police officer speak:

"Josh…we are here to take you….you are under arrest for setting fire to the Louvre museum last night…"

He could hear no more. The Louvre….his most favorite museum of all time. Destroying all those paintings…who would do such a thing? Certainly not him! Who would, therefore, frame him for such an act?

He was captured by the police and brought to jail, imprisoned until court. He did nothing but sob helplessly. This life…who could do such a thing to him? He had never caused anyone harm! He was kind, and caring, and loving. The only person he could possibly think of to cause him harm was his old buddy Duff Killigan. They were buds, sure…but he was one bad seed. Why Duff could have been angry at him he had no clue…but it was plausible that these actions were his doing. And so, Josh led himself to believe that his enemy was Duff.

Later in the day, finally, Sheila came to visit her husband. He was in a fetal position, on his cot. He was just lying there…motionless and emotionless. Sheila felt terrible to see the pain she put him through. But, on the other hand, she was determined to prove Duff wrong.

Sheila knocked on the bars and Josh lifted his head.

"Who's there?" he called. He wondered if it was just another guard, but they usually didn't bother the cellmates much. The only other possibility was that he had a visitor.

Sheila looked down, and mumbles. "…it's me."

Josh could recognize her voice anywhere. He got up from his cot and crawled to the bars.

"Oh, Sheila, Sheila…" he cried. "Help me…who has done this to me…_me_! A poor painter, a man of love and one who gives nothing but friendship! Oh Sheila…please…they accused me of the worst crime imaginable…I didn't do it…I-I swear! Sheila…you know I didn't do it….I love and appreciate art more than anything. Please help me…"

Sheila teared. She backed away from the cage. "I'm sorry Josh….I'm so sorry. But it was I who did this to you."

Josh paused. He could not understand. "What…no….no, never. It could not have been you."

Tears rolled down Sheila's cheeks. "But it was…do you hate me for doing this to you? For taking your sight, your touch, your ability to paint….to do the thing you love most? For taking your beauty and taking your freedom, accusing you of doing something you could never do? For destroying what you care about most? Do you hate me, Josh? Please…tell me the truth. Say you hate me."

"Sheila…" he began, looking up at her voice while down on his knees. "I could never hate you. You could put me in the cruelest of worlds, and I could never think twice of you. You could take away my freedom, take away my ability to paint, but the only thing I am able to keep is my ability to love you for all eternity. I love you, Sheila…nothing can ever thwart that fact. Kill me, Sheila, or torture me, or take another man but my heart will never fail to admire you and I will never stop being in love with you."

"Josh…no…when you were asleep last night, I cut out your eyes and cut off your hands myself. Your blood is on my hands. I'm the one who set fire to your favorite place in the whole world…and I made it look like you were the one who did it, setting your DNA everywhere and…a-and…"

Josh interrupted, "My eyes were always for you. So take them….and my hands were always for you as well. So take them too. And my favorite place is no museum but it is home…or any place I am with you…"

Sheila cringed. She had to look away. She had done all of this to Josh…she had tortured him. Made him suffer. She had won Duff's bet but she felt no glory. "Stop….just…stop…" And with that she ran away.

Duff was waiting outside the jail. When Sheila walked out, she had tears in her eyes.

"Well?" he asked.

"He…he still loves me. I told him I did everything…and he still loves me."

Duff growled. "Whut? After all eh tha' te lad _still _obsessed o'er ye?"

Sheila sniffed her sorrows away and nod her head.

"ARRRGGGHH! Nae! Tha's…..well tha's jus' because…well….ye haven' did anyting te harm 'em physically!"

Sheila looked at him. "But…I did…I cut out his eyes and cut off his hands…" she cried. "And….I cut out his heart…"

"Bah! Nae, but he wus asleep when ye did tha'! If ye beat 'em…."

Sheila shook her head. "Duff…no….I've done enough…I can't hurt him anymore.."

"Och, yes ye can!" he yelled. "Ye done enough, exactly. Whut can beh worse than whut ye'v already done!"

Sheila cried out. "Oh, you devil! Curse you! You have brought this harm onto all of us! You bewitched me into causing harm to the man I love!"

Duff shook his head slowly. "Nae, lassie…eh was ye. Eh was all ye."

Sheila held her face and cried. He was right. She knew he was right. But she didn't want to believe it.

And so, once more Duff Killigan convinced Sheila to cause harm she could never do intentionally. She marched back into the jail, found Josh's cell, and asked a guard to open it for her. When Josh heard her soft voice, and the noise of the cell being open, he could feel the freedom at his fingertips…err….in his heart, rather.

Sheila entered the cell. She closed it. Josh fumbled for her body.

"Sheila….Sheila!" he cried. When he had found her, he could not retain her feel, for she had stuck him.

He stumbled backwards and fell to the cold cell floor. Sheila…his wife…..she had punched him right in the jaw. He could not understand what had caused her to do such harm. If she really had done all the things she claimed to have done, then what was the purpose? Why had she done all those things to him? And now she was beating him…continuously bashing him while he was down…

Blood ran from Josh's nose and mouth. He could easily feel the bruises forming upon his face.

"Why…why? What have I done to you, Sheila?" he asked, crying out for mercy. She wouldn't stop. She kept striking at him in a pattern_. Strike…..strike….strike._

She kept at it for the longest time. Josh wondered why no one would stop her…was there no guard to give him justice and sympathy? Though, while Josh was beaten, harmed physically, he could not see the unconscious guards on the floor of the cell hall, and Duff standing right beside.

Sheila had enough when Josh's face was covered with blood and was a deep purple color, and swollen. Duff smirked at the sight. The man was so cruel; he would smile at the idea of murder of a child. Sheila yelled at her husband, before backing away.

"Do you truly still love me, after all that I have put you through? After all that I have taken from you? How could you possibly continue to cherish me as if I was serving to your every will! Have you no morality? No sense of judgment? What! Oh, why must you be so inhumanly kind!"

And with that, she escaped the cell and dashed away in tears. Duff shrugged, content with his entertainment for the day, and trailed in her tracks.

Later that day, after guards awoke to a strange sight and an unclear memory, Josh was offered a phone call.

He could not call Sheila…..he wasn't exactly in the mood to get beaten again.

He could not call Duff…..just….no.

But who was left of his good friends, who could give him a kind word and who he could trust?

'_Camille' _he thought.

Camille León, Sheila's ex-sister-in-law (divorced to Sheila's brother Melvin), came to visit Josh with an innocent worry. She ran to his cell after being admitted, her long bright blonde hair swaying, her Coach handbag flailing about, and her Prada heels clanking on the hard hallway floor. It was fascinating to wonder how she never fell in such high shoes, especially when running.

She reached the cell and grasped the bars, and shrieked with a loud, obnoxious scream when she saw Josh's form.

"Like eewwww…you're so….like….ewwwww. Deformed and like…..gross."

The lady wasn't all that intelligent.

"C-Camille…" Josh moaned.

"OMG who did this to you?" she asked, looking at him through the bars. Josh lay on his cot, facing the ceiling, not moving, and in severe pain.

"…Sh….Sheila…."

Camille widened her eyes with disbelief. "NO way…she would never. You two are so cute together, like, all the time. You're like the perfect couple."

When Camille said this, she looked down. She was slightly jealous that Sheila and Josh were the 'perfect' and 'cutest' couple. She and her (new) husband weren't as iconic, but, they were still iconic in their own way. Sheila and Josh were known as the romantic couple, which usually meant the more popular couple. She and her husband were more passionate than romantic…but they were still popular…sort of. Maybe it was because Sheila was married to the most kind, most romantic, and most loving man that could ever live? And she was married to the man with the bad reputation, the Scottish robotics expert/doctor who had anger issues? She loved him, but, boy was he a devil sometimes.

Josh told Camille everything; everything that had occurred to him, starting with how Sheila drugged him the night previous. As he progressed Camille gave him a weird look. She was obviously freaked out.

"Why do you continue to love her? She put you through so much. You should curse her out or something. And, like, just….I dunno. Die."

Josh gave her a look. "I cannot stop loving her…she is the one I praise day and night. She is the one I look up to for help and whom I put my trust in."

"Well she broke your trust by chopping off your hands and taking out your eyes, etc. I don't think you need to worry about—"

"She is the one I am _devoted _to, Camille. I can't stop loving her, I just can't. She is my goddess."

Camille sighed. "But, like, why did she do this then? Was it random, or did you do something wrong?"

This question had struck Josh earlier, but it occurred to him again more prominently. _Did _he do something wrong? If he had, he could not think of one thing as a possibility. He could not recall one thing that he may have done to anger his wife. Was it that he has made her unhappy? Was it because he forgot her birthday? No…never. Did she assume he did something when he did not?

No matter how much Josh thought, nothing came to him. It drove him mad.

She had admitted to harming him, but she had not once stated the cause of it. The question circled in Josh's mind but he eventually came to the conclusion that he could not figure it out, if he had not done something wrong in his wife's eyes.

And so. Sheila proved to Duff that Josh loved her through the worst suffering…Duff was grumpy as always, but he was extra grumpy knowing that he lost his own bet. Duff simply shrugged it off, however, and filled the emptiness inside with the glee of a cigar. Sheila on the other hand was weeping within. She couldn't stand knowing the love of her life was rotting in jail, blind and unable to paint ever again. She went back to the jail. She had to.

Josh looked even more miserable since she left him. He truly looked like he was in an unbearable suffering, in terrible mental and physical pain. She approached his cell, and watched as he just lay there, lifeless. She honestly thought at first that life really had drained from his soul.

"Josh?" she called, softly. She stood close to the bars and watched as he wouldn't move.

"Josh…." She called again. This time, his head turned to her.

"Josh….it's me….I….I've come to apologize."

A few moments passed by, before Josh turned his head away from her again.

Something clicked inside of Sheila's mind. She could always blame Duff for the things she did…he was usually responsible for most things, anyway, and when she thought about it, this was kind of his fault, too.

"He made me do it, Josh…you have to believe me."

Technically it wasn't a lie. She was stretching the truth, maybe, because there was free will involved…but Duff certainly instigated her actions.

Josh didn't move. He didn't seem to hear her. But, eventually, he spoke to her:

"Camille visited me yesterday…she told me I should curse you and die. Maybe that is what I ought to do…"

"No!" Sheila cried. "You are not dying. And…Camille said for you to do that? How dare she!"

Josh turned to her again. "How dare she for being the only one who would come and give me their kindness in my time of need…Sheila. How dare _you _for what you have done."

He had a point there. But Sheila wouldn't give up. She began to cry to him from the other side of the cage, desperately.

"Please, Josh….yes, okay…Duff didn't make me do any of what I did. He made a bet with me…that you wouldn't love me if I did horrible things to you. But I proved him wrong…you did still love me. But I shouldn't have agreed to the bet…I shouldn't have agreed to hurt you. He was just so…..so…irritable! And he got me wanting to win him over and I wasn't thinking…and then he pulled me into it….and….and I'm blaming it all on him. But it was my fault. And…"

Sheila ranted on and on. Josh listened to half, while the other half he zoned out. After a while he stopped her. She cried out,

"I'll fix everything! I'll….I'll turn back time if I have to! Josh, I'm sorry!"

Josh Mankey looked in her direction though he could not see. By her voice he could tell her expression—fear, sadness, grief, remorse…he felt sad to hear the pain. Yes, she took his sight, and his touch, and he felt so empty inside from the pain she had caused him. But he could not be angry. There was no anger inside him. Only sadness. He was sad that his wife hurt him…he was sad for being so weak. He was sad for everything that has happened. But most of all, he was sad that things were not right when they could be.

Josh crawled to the front of his cell, where Sheila stood. He looked up to where he hoped Sheila was standing.

"I forgive you Sheila…but please….let us go back to our normal lives. I know things cannot be fixed now, but we can live as happily as we possibly could…that is all I want…."

Josh's kind words were exactly what Sheila wanted to hear. She smiled and took his arm.

"Yes, Josh….that is all I want too."

_In time…_

In return for the bet won on her behalf, Sheila asked Duff to give Josh eyes and the ability to see, and hands so he could feel. Sheila covered the burning of the museum and cleared Josh's name. Josh forgave Sheila and he continued to love and praise her, and Sheila continued to love Josh in return. They ended up having seven beautiful children. Josh became a famous painter…and many other good things came to his life. He always seemed to think, somehow, that Sheila had to do with his success as a painter. She gave him all other happiness…but it was the little things here and there that seemed 'helped'. He often thought of her as his guardian angel, but, he never truly learned the secrets that Mrs. Sheila Mankey kept hidden through her angelic brow.


End file.
